


Scraps and Old Clothes

by transtwinyards



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Bonding, Coming Out, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4718999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/transtwinyards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan moved to lift his other hand. “And I’ve got a few cups of yogurt. As a peace offering.”</p><p>On his other hand was a plastic bag from the 7-11 down the street. That, Blue knew, really did contain yogurt. She wondered if he bought her favorite flavor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scraps and Old Clothes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aplatonicjacuzzi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aplatonicjacuzzi/gifts).



> A little conversation thing I had with [Nick](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aplatonicjacuzzi) and I was just thinking of cute little Raven Crew interactions and, well, this just happened.
> 
> Comments are appreciated!

Blue was in her room, sticking the last ribbon in place on her wall when she heard Calla shout, “Blue, can you go get the door before he can start banging on it and feed on my migraine?! I’m not asking again!”

With a huff, she walked down the stairs, careful enough not to stomp as she walked, knowing that Calla could bitch about even _that_. Blue wondered why Calla even decided that drinking herself to sleep last night was a good idea. Blue always thought that drinking yourself into anything was a terrible idea.

She opened the door, and was met with black.

“What the fuck, Sargent,” it grumbled. Blue looked up and saw sharp angles sprayed with a smattering of blush, and a natural frown. Ronan Lynch stood on her porch, and just asked her what the fuck for whatever reason.

“I could tell you the same thing, Lynch,” she replied, but stepped back to let him in. Blue and Ronan never got along, but that didn’t mean that his presence diminished her manners. He stepped in, and with him, came all the cold air. Blue scrambled to shut the door before it could reach her, in her short shorts and knee-high socks.

“I’ve got these,” Ronan said, lifting up a green tote bag. Blue was struck with the thought that Ronan Lynch was not the type of person you’d see with a tote bag and think reassuring thoughts. Most people would think he would be carrying a dismembered head, a bomb, or any other possibly morbid stuff. Blue, fortunately, was not like most people. She only thought that maybe he had some kind of magical thing in there.

Ronan moved to lift his other hand. “And I’ve got a few cups of yogurt. As a peace offering.”

On his other hand was a plastic bag from the 7-11 down the street. That, Blue knew, really did contain yogurt. She wondered if he bought her favorite flavor.

She made a grab for the tote bag. It wasn’t that heavy. And it was filled with…

“Clothes,” she said.

Ronan shrugged. “We can cut holes in them. They don’t fit me anymore.”

Blue frowned and handed it bag to Ronan. “What makes you think _I’ll_ take ‘em? _Size_? I’m not taking your charity.”

Ronan scoffed, “You and Parrish are always so fucking anal about this.” He rolled his eyes. “Not everything’s charity, Sargent. This is a strictly professional exchange.”

He grinned, “You get new clothes, and I get to rip the shit out of mine. Win-win.”

Blue scowled and considered it. Ronan was right to bring a peace offering. Ronan was also right that Blue wanted new clothes. Blue thought about how much Ronan put thought into this kind of stuff beforehand, but waved it off.

“Have some tact, Lynch,” she said after a moment. She walked towards the stairs, knowing full well that Ronan would trot up behind her. “We’re not going to just ‘ _rip the shit_ ’ out of those clothes. This is supposed to be creative.”

Ronan poked at the back of her knee. “Hey, I _am_ creative.”

Blue laughed, “You have to convince me first.”

* * *

 

“Oh, I could get used to _this_ ,” Blue said as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror by her closet. Ronan sat on her bed, his hands clutched to his chest, where Chainsaw was hiding. A few minutes into their session, he had let her in from the window in Blue’s room. The raven has been helpful with shredding pieces of fabric that Blue gave her.

Blue turned around, “Is this a good look?” she asked. She was wearing a faded muscle tank that she didn’t even want to rip apart (surprisingly), and a pair of yoga pants. Ronan looked at her for a moment, then turned his head to the side in that raven-like way that he did.

He laid Chainsaw down on Blue’s bed, before grabbing something from behind him. He held it up. It was a short pair of bleached overalls. “A little bit more flannel and you can really live up to the country girl aesthetic, Sargent.”

Blue laughed, “Not the outfit I was going for.”

Ronan shrugged. “I’m not good with closet cases.”

Blue kept quiet. She knew an opening to a joke when she saw one. And she was not about to take that joke.

“C’mon, Sargent. That was as open as—”

“Finish that sentence,” Blue cut in, grabbing her old clothes from the pile she left by her desk. “Finish that sentence, and I’m making you leave with these clothes whether you like it or not.”

Ronan huffed, “Lay off a bit.”

Blue scowled at him, “Okay then, Lynch.” She said. “If you’re not good with closet cases, why are _you_ one?”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny, you know.”

Blue barked a laugh, and walked into the closet to change, “Why the hell did you think I didn’t want to take that one?”

She changed into her old clothes, but her nose still smelled of the clothes from Ronan’s old closet.

When she got back into her room, Ronan was holding his hands together, almost looking nervous. If Blue was any other person, she would have asked what was up. But she was not like any other person. She knew what building up courage to say something looked like, she’s worn that face many times before.

“Sargent. Blue, I,” Ronan started. He took a deep breath. He looked physically pained.

Blue felt her entire being soften at this. “If you don’t want to say it, Ronan, it’s okay.”

Ronan scowled, brow furrowing at the statement. “No, I have to. I won’t be able to…” _say it if I don't do it right now_. Blue was uncomfortably familiar with the feeling.

She dumped her new clothes onto the bed next to Ronan and plopped down on top of it. Her side was up against his, and then the thought hit her. This was the second time a raven boy has ever been in her room, and on her bed.

“You know, Lynch,” she said. “I’ve never been more open with a guy on a bed before.”

Ronan laughed, “You mean aside from Noah.”

“Yeah,” she replied, and she didn't even think about how Ronan would know that.

“Well, don’t worry, Sargent. I don’t swing that way.”

There was a silence before Blue said, “Was that what you were trying to say?”

There was another silence, then some shuffling. Chainsaw stirred on the bed and waddled up to Ronan’s side. Blue could make out a small ‘ _kerah_ ’ from her side of the bed.

“Yeah, Blue. That was what I was trying to say.”

“Okay. Hey, Ro?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Get me some yogurt.”


End file.
